


It's a Little Unusual

by purpleeyesandbowties



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: (touch of angst but its so small u blink and you'll miss it), (two sentences maybe three), M/M, anyway, doug and jacobi get into a Situation; act accordingly, for type_here, this is fluff bordering on crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleeyesandbowties/pseuds/purpleeyesandbowties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doug Eiffel did not wake up this morning expecting to be locked in a closet with Daniel Jacobi. He also didn’t expect Minkowski to be the one to lock them in there, but then again, maybe he should have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Little Unusual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [type_here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/type_here/gifts).



> This is for type_here (typehere452 on tumblr) who won my 1000 follower fic giveaway! I hope you like it!! :)
> 
> important: if you havent heard John Mulaney's Salt and Pepper Diner story, pls do so before reading. (cw for slight ableism- two small jokes about people with schizophrenia)  
> here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYIwPu50Fic

Doug Eiffel did not wake up this morning expecting to be locked in a closet with Daniel Jacobi. He also didn’t expect Minkowski to be the one to lock them in there, but then again, maybe he should have. 

That morning, Doug woke up to the shrill sound of an alarm— not the ‘oh god the we’re gonna die’ alarm like he was used to hearing, but, even worse, the ‘get your lazy ass out of bed, Officer Eiffel’ kind of alarm. 

“Really, Hera?” Doug grouched, running a hand through his hair. It was just long enough now to form some truly spectacular zero-grav bedhead. 

“Sorry, Officer Eiffel,” Hera said. “New orders.”

“But I’m off rotation today!” Doug complained. 

“Change of plans,” said a voice from the doorway. Doug groaned, turning to face Jacobi, who was knocking lightly on the metal doorframe with his usual laid-back, effortless grin. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Officer Eiffel, but I need your help.”

Doug sighed and pushed himself out of bed. “Alright. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“Make it five, Officer. We have work to do.”

—

The “work” Jacobi had promised Doug was seeming less like work and more like ‘messing around with circuitry for no reason’.

“So, why are we doing this again?” he asked, not for the first time. Jacobi shushed him and connected another pair of wires. He didn’t even flinch at the small shock it gave him. Lowly, he said, “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Eiffel, tensions on the ship have been…high….recently. Now, it’s my firm belief that the best way to break such a tension is to show them a good example of cooperation and teamwork.”

“Huh,” Doug said, raising an eyebrow. Jacobi nodded seriously at him. A few seconds later, his poker face broke. He grinned, looking years younger and a lot more mischievous than usual. 

“No, we’re gonna play a prank on them instead.”

Doug couldn’t help a surprised laugh. “Really? That doesn’t really seem like…”

“What? A wise idea? No, it’s really not. But we’re gonna do it anyway.” 

He grinned at Doug’s skeptical look. “Really! It’ll be fun. And perfectly harmless. No one could possibly get hurt.”

“Alright….” Doug said. “But if this is an elaborate plan to get me in hot water with Kepler, I’m taking you down with me.”

Jacobi scoffed. “Please. I respect Kepler. I trust him with my life. I’d die for him if he asked me to. But he comes second after pranks. Always.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Doug asked, eyeing the open console Jacobi was messing with. He was busy disconnecting and reconnecting wires, feeding into the box with some wires he’d pulled from his pocket. One of the wires was actually attached to a USB, the contents of which Doug couldn’t even guess at.

“Have you ever heard of ‘The Salt and Pepper Diner’?”

“No…?” Doug said. 

Jacobi nodded knowingly. “Probably came out after your mission launch. Anyway, luckily for you, I’ve seen this particular bit so many times I basically have it memorized.”

He clapped his hands, rubbing them together in anticipation. “So there’s this comedian named John Mulaney…”

—

Doug clutched his stomach, snorting with laughter. Jacobi smiled smugly, arms folded proudly. No matter how many times he heard (or told) that story, it was sill hilarious. 

“No way!” Doug choked out. “And we’re gonna—”

Jacobi nodded sagely. “We are.”

Doug punched the air, smiling giddily. This was shaping up to be the best day on this goddamn ship since the not-so-golden trio came to visit.

—

The plan went off flawlessly. (Well, almost. The end got a little messy, but…)

Mission launch went beautifully. Jacobi hacked into the internal soundboard and plugged his little USB into the mainframe. It contained twenty plays of the song _What’s New Pussycat_ in a row with…wait for it… one _It’s Not Unusual_ thrown in for variety.

Doug was a connoisseur of terrible, stupid pranks, and this was a beauty. Frustratingly annoying, yet perfectly harmless. After all, who didn’t like a little background music?

Doug and Jacobi positioned themselves in the common area and waited. The music would be directed to everyone’s room separately, disguised under just enough static to make it seem like an electrical malfunction. Doug hoped Hera wouldn’t take much blame for their prank, but Maxwell had been tinkering with Hera’s audio settings recently, and Doug was perfectly content with letting Maxwell take the heat. Shortly after the first play started, Doug’s comm buzzed to life.

“Eiffel, are you hearing this?” Minkowski asked. 

“No?” Doug said innocently. “What’s up, Commander?”

He could hear her tapping at keys.

“Hmm. An audio transmission, maybe. Maybe just a malfunction in the speaker system. It’s a more modern song, so it’s probably not a transmission after all. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks, Commander.”

Doug cut the comm, grinning. Jacobi was finishing up a similar call from Kepler. Doug held up his hand for a high-five, and Jacobi returned it with a funny little smile on his face. 

Doug realized this was the first time he had ever initiated friendly contact between himself and Jacobi. The thing was, Doug didn’t like any of the Urania crew very much, what with the forceful take over and all, but of the three of them, he liked Jacobi the best. Even still, they weren’t great friends. Hardly even pals. Maybe after this, they might be.

—

Twenty minutes later, Doug was ready to toss Jacobi out of an airlock. He couldn’t, unfortunately, because the two of them were currently locked in a very small closet together. Eight plays into _What’s New Pussycat_ (with one _It’s Not Unusual_ thrown in for variety) Minkowski had caught on to Doug’s ‘innocent’ act and charged down to where he and Jacobi were hiding, cackling.

“You did this!” she shouted. “You-you—you little _baboon_! That stupid song has been driving me crazy for the past hour and i _t! Was! You!_ ”

And then she shoved them in a supply closet and locked the door.

 

“I hate you,” Doug muttered. Jacobi sighed, abandoning his attempts to jimmy the door open.

“So you’ve said. Ten times. In the past five minutes.”

“Well, it’s because I hate you.”

Jacobi rolled his eyes expressively. “You didn’t hate me, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Ten minutes ago, I wasn’t forced to choke on your stupid cologne in this dumb-ass closet.”

Jacobi actually looked a little hurt at that. “It’s not _stupid_. It was very expensive.”

Doug’s nose wrinkled. “Well, I’m smelling it right now, and I’m telling you…it’s terrible.”

“ _You’re_ terrible,” Jacobi shot back childishly. Doug narrowed his eyes. If there was anything he was good at, it was childish insults. And Jacobi had basically just declared war.

“Says the guy who got us into this mess.”

“Says the guy who agreed to be a part of this mess,” Jacobi muttered.

“Hey, I didn’t agree to shit! You guys were the ones who crashed our party!”

“Yeah, because you were doing so well on your own, stranded in deep space with no food, water, or brains left.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you owe us your goddamn life, Officer Eiffel. Some thanks wouldn’t be out of line, I think!”

Doug snorted. “I’ll thank you in hell. You rescued me— so what? I would have found my way out of that scrape with or without your stupid help, you stupid boss, or your stupid boss’ stupid boss.”

“Now you’re just being childish.”

“After the hell I’ve been through, I think I deserve it!”

“Oh, ‘cause no one else has ever had a bad time before. Of course, you’re the first and last person to ever get stranded in space! To ever face death and make him blink first! To be sick or lost or alone.”

“Hey, listen, you can’t just tell me what I’ve—”

“God, do you ever just _shut up!_ ” Jacobi shouted, face red. The whole time he and Doug had been auguring, they’d been getting up in each other’s faces, spitting insults (and maybe some actual saliva) at each other. They were nose-to-nose, practically touching. Doug narrowed his eyes at Jacobi, refusing to break eye contact. Jacobi returned the glare with an equal amount of venom. 

They were less than an inch apart, so when the ship suddenly creaked, groaned, and lurched forward, Jacobi’s face smacked roughly into Doug’s.

He grabbed at Doug’s arms to steady himself, one hand coming up to his face.

Doug’s hand went to his own face instinctively. He touched his lips, which were stinging from the impact and…damp. Like….

 

“Oh my god,” he said. “I think you kissed me.”

“ _What?_ ”

Jacobi looked mortified, wiping at the patch of Doug’s saliva from the impact off his own lips.

Doug stifled to urge to laugh. Just like that, his anger melted away. This whole situation had been tiptoeing the line between ‘will make a funny story later’ and‘too campy to be real’. The accidental kiss had pushed it way into the realm of the latter.

“Don’t worry about it, “ Doug said. “I really didn’t mind.”

“You…” Jacobi cut himself off. He studied Doug for a quick moment, his face unreadable. “You didn’t _mind_ that I kissed you?”

Doug felt his face heat up. _Backtrack,_ he decided. _Just because you've had DTF thoughts about basically everyone on board this ship doesn't mean that Jacobi has too. Play it cool, maybe he won't blow this out of proportion._

But the look on Jacobi's face wasn't disgust— it was curiosity, a little bit of confusion. And...maybe a little hopeful? Or maybe Doug was just super projecting.

“Oh, god I didn’t mean it like that!” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. But Jacobi grabbed his wrists and yanked him in, pressing their lips together— on purpose this time. Doug got over his surprise quickly and got with the program, freeing his wrists from Jacobi’s grasp and pulling him in closer.

“On second thought,” Doug said, only slightly breathless, “I _do_ think I meant it like that.”

“Again: do you ever shut up?” Jacobi asked. It would have been more threatening if his voice hadn’t been breathy and soft, if his breath wasn’t ghosting over Doug’s lips, and if his hands weren’t firmly wrapped around his lower back.

“Well, I could be persuaded. Probably. You’d have to try a few things to make sure—”

“Shut up,” Jacobi muttered against his lips, and then shut him up himself. From elsewhere in the ship, they heard distant strains of _What's New Pussycat_ and the faint, unmistakable sound of Minkowski screaming. 

**Author's Note:**

> im sadhipstercat, i love writing trash, come talk to me about it


End file.
